be related, Lieutenant? The kind of people a place like that would attract?”
“We’re looking into everything, Mrs. Burdette.”
“Those metal poles,” she said, pointing. “I don’t even want to think. But as I said, this is her big day.”
“Was,” said Will Burdette. “Best-laid plans and all that.”
* * *
—
Older sister Marilee Mastro and her husband, Stuart, were M.D.’s around forty practicing family medicine. Enhanced by stilt heels, she topped his six feet by a couple of inches. Both Mastros were blond, blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and rangy. Long, grave faces gave them the look of an outtake from a Scandinavian travel poster.
I said, “Where do you practice?”
Stuart Mastro said, “That’s in some way relevant?”
“Just collecting information, Doctor.”
“We’re both at Kaiser Murrieta.”
Marilee Mastro said, “We live in Murrieta. Stu’s full-time, I’m in the clinic twice a week so I can prioritize the kids.”
“Three boys,” I said. “Your mom told us.”
Marilee nodded. “They weren’t allowed to attend so we had to hire a hotel babysitter. In fact, I’d like to get back as soon as possible to see how they’re doing.”
“We’ll get through this as fast as possible,” said Milo. “Which hotel are you staying at?”
“Executive Suites on Santa Monica and Overland. We’re all there, Amanda—my little sister—booked it. Correction: All of us are there except Amanda. She lives in L.A., goes to the U.”
I said, “The girl with the book.”
Marilee smiled. “Always. She’s the big-brain in the family.”
Stuart frowned. “Didn’t see why the boys had to be excluded but now I’m glad. Not just what happened, the tacky ambience. This used to be a strip joint. Not exactly a wholesome environment.”
Marilee stuck out her tongue. “It is kind of gross, thinking of what those poles went through, no? Can you imagine the germ cultures on them, hon? On the other hand, the boys would’ve had fun spinning around on them.”
Stuart chuckled. “Kyle and Brendan would go nuts and Marston would be sitting in his stroller cheering them on. With our luck, they’d pull the darn things down.”
“Reign of destruction,” said Marilee.
“Boom,” said Stuart.
I said, “Three boys.”
“Oh, they’re a trio of hellions,” said Marilee, fully enjoying the thought. She crossed her fingers. Checked her phone. “So far, no calls from the babysitter.”
“The boys being banished was the blushing bride’s idea,” said Stuart Mastro. “Garrett called to tell us but his heart wasn’t in it. That’s Garrett.”
“Goes with the flow.”
“That’s one way to put it. He doesn’t have strong opinions on much except the Dodgers and the Lakers.”
Marilee said, “You’re making him sound insipid, hon.” To us: “Garrett’s smart and sweet but not a fighter.”
Stuart said, “Goes along to get along.”
I said, “That’s not the bride.”
A beat. Stuart shook his head.
Marilee said, “I’m sure she’s a fine person. We don’t really know her that well.”
“Not a lot of contact before the wedding.”
“The two of them visited my parents on Thanksgiving and Christmas and that was about it. Apparently her parents aren’t big on family holidays, they were off on some sort of vacation.”
I said, “So pretty limited contact.”
Stuart said, “Never met her parents before today, only met her twice. Our conclusion was they’re superficially a cute couple.”
“Superficially.”
“First impressions are by nature superficial,” he said. “Now that I see them together, I’m assessing that they’re totally different from each other. But maybe opposites can attract.”
I said, “Can you think of anyone who’d want to destroy their wedding?”
“By murdering someone?” he said. “That’s kind of flat-out insane, no?”
Milo said, “You heard there was a murder.”
Stuart blinked. “Well, no, I didn’t. What we were told was someone died and then detectives showed us the photo of that girl. With all the police presence plus detectives it’s pretty obvious this wasn’t a slip-and-fall or a suicide, right?”
Milo said, “Mind taking another look at the photo?” He handed it to Mastro.
“Yup, that’s the postmortem look. I know it because third year in med school I took an elective with the Riverside County coroner. Nope, same answer, never seen her.”
He passed the shot to his wife. She said, “We were just discussing it before you called my parents over, and no one on our side has any idea who she is.”
I said, “Should we concentrate on the bride’s side?”
“I’m not saying that—actually, I guess I am. Simply on a probability basis. Nearly everyone here is from her side.”
“What’s the breakdown?”
“Our side is basically us and a few of Gar’s college buddies.” She looked at Stuart.
He said, “If there are a hundred people here, my off-the-cuff would be eighty-five to